


Win Win

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslash100 Mini Fics [4]
Category: American Mary (2012)
Genre: Community: femslash100, F/F, Power Imbalance, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary points towards the stage.  “I want Beatress tonight.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Win Win

**Author's Note:**

> For drabble prompt #405: Performance.

Beatress is lush on the stage, all bowed lips and round hips, her body both languid and carefully posed in the stage light. She waves cheerfully at Mary, the softness of her arms swaying a little, and Mary can’t help but smile as she walks into the club. She shucks her coat, the inner silk layer smooth against her skin, and hands it to Lance.

Beatress blows a kiss to Mary, smiling widely. Her breasts are already bare; she’s naked and smooth onstage, the men looking at her with curious hunger in their eyes. Mary waves back curtly and hides her smile.

“Having a good day, Mary?” Lance has a way of being friendly and aloof at the same time; Mary appreciates that.

She sits in the booth and watches Beatress move under the lights, hair like ink, white back arched. “A great day, Lance. Thanks for asking.”

Lance clears his throat, sitting across from Mary with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “But?” He could always tell what she needed and wanted. “What can I get you?”

Mary imagines layers of clothes on the floor of her apartment, layers of makeup caked on her pillowcase. The high-pitched giggle of a rich woman being tossed onto a bed, eyes wide and nothing like a cartoon. She points towards the stage. “I want Beatress tonight.”

Lance nods, asking no more questions.

When Beatress isn’t looking, Mary blows her a kiss, lacing her own palm with a smudge of blood-red lipstick.


End file.
